The Clock's Ticking
by dream-spells
Summary: Rewrtten story of The Day to Die. Sequel to Time Still Goes On. What can a girl do when she's been told the day of her death?


Hi everyone! This story is set to be the entire rewritten 5 chapters of the story The Day to Die. That story had too many problems running around it, that it was just impossible to continue with that story. This will have the same underlying plot, but with an added bonus. This is also made to be my sequel to Time Still Goes On. So, readers, enjoy this new story/sequel of mine! This was also done, because I've changed my writing style the past year since I've worked on those stories I've had up. 

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**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own Potter characters or places. They belong to Jo. Also don't own the story, Twas the Night Before Christmas. That's not mine either. Gosh, that's probably why I'm not rich. 

**Chapter One: The Quiet Summer**

It was a quiet summer to say the least. After all the return that You-Know-Who made, everyone thought there would be, well, more activity than this. The children played with their parents, the parents enjoying the moments they spent with their children. But of course, that was the Muggles. Yet, the You-Know-Who had not appeared. It was a quiet summer.

The ministry was in complete chaos waiting for the snake to strike. The wizards were always on the edge. Every shadow around the corner was a Death Eater, a Dementor, or You-Know-Who himself. Nobody could hide the tension and suspicions wherever they went. The days of the Wizarding World were diving down into a pit of misery. It was a quiet summer.

Everyone just waited from one moment to the next for an attack, or the Wizards did anyways. Things were not any better with the famous boy Wizard, Harry Potter, as he paced back and forth on his bedroom floor at Privet Drive. He began to wonder for another summer, if he was going to hear anything from the Order. So much had happened, and here he was, stuck in his Muggle house with his despicable aunt, uncle, and pig of a cousin. Still, between the yelling, the curses, and the pain-in-the-ass family, it was a quiet summer.

But somewhere else in a different Muggle neighborhood, something had started to wake from it's slumber. It had been something comparable to the Muggle Christmas poem/story/rhyme/thing at first, "…when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." However, even if the owners in this particular house had a mouse, it would have left the instant something was wrong. And something was very wrong.

The dark figures crept into the house, not on their tiptoes, but in strides. The figures wore jet-black cloaks, each holding a wooden stick in one of their hands. The figures stopped. The one standing at the front looked behind him at the people who stood about, silently waiting for the signal. The pale faced man at the front of the group turned back around and faced the staircase with a smirk. A real nasty smirk that meant bad news for the Muggles living in the house, upstairs sound asleep at two in the morning.

The man lifted his left hand and waved a finger at the stairs to the rest of the group of cloaked people. They began to ascend the staircase when someone suddenly made a loud noise on the bottom staircase.

"Damnit, Goyle! Keep quiet!" The pale faced man whispered angrily, as he brandished his wand with red sparks flying out of the tip.

"Sorry, Malfoy! These damn stairs…" The man named Goyle muttered back in a low voice.

The man called Malfoy narrowed his eyes and turned back around. No trouble met them until they reached the second floor that held a total of ten rooms, bathrooms, closets, and all. Unable to remain quiet any longer, Malfoy gave the signal, green sparks out of his wand. In those sudden moments, the men behind him spread out into the rooms shouting spells in every direction.

In one room, the mother and father woke up to the sudden voices in the hallway. Before they could understand what was happening someone burst through the doorway shouting, "Crucio!"

Their screams cut through the shouts in the hallway made by the other Wizards and woke up a girl sleeping across the hall. Drenched in sweat from a nightmare, the girl sprang up from bed, grabbing the wand on her nightstand and opened the door into the world of chaos.

A spell she could not make out hit her square in the stomach sending her falling back into wall above her bed. She heard a cackle of laughter coming from the doorway. She lifted her head and saw the pale man.

"Lucius Malfoy." She said, gritting through the pain in the stomach.

"Hello to you too, Mudblood." Lucius answered with a smirk. He shot another spell at the girl that made her writhe in pain.

"Don't you dare hurt by parents Lucius!"

"Then what's the fun in that, Granger?"

"I'll kill you!" The girl shouted through the pain. Her sight began to blur.

"I'd like to see you try! Hadn't even tried an Unforgivable and already you talk of killing me?" cackled Lucius.

"Damn you to hell!"

"Such lovely words. The Dark Lord wants you alive Mudblood, consider yourself lucky! Your filthy parents however…" As he said this, the screams ended in silence and the Death Eaters crowed around Lucius.

"What should we do now, Malfoy?" asked a woman by his side.

"I'll be right there, Bellatrix. Just let me have my fun." With this, he shouted a stream of curses that sprang with light from his wand.

The girl screamed. She wanted the pain to stop. She wanted the Death Eaters to leave. She felt like she was going to die. Other spells joined in, attacking her left and right. The Death Eaters' laughter was everywhere. It didn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Nothing made sense anymore. She was falling into a sea of darkness.

Tears streamed down her face until she fell limp unto the floor.

"Now look what all of you have done. She's bloody out cold!" He sighed. "But, I was getting a headache from all that screaming anyway. Let's head back.

The spells stopped as the Death Eaters left the house. Apparation was easy in the Muggle house; there weren't any spells to stop them. When they were all gone, Lucius stood alone, watching the girl's still form. He spoke half to himself, barely believing his own words.

"I don't see why you're so special to him anyways."

With a spell that sent the girl's body into a jerky motion for a second before falling limp once more, Lucius sent one last spell out the roof. It was the Dark Mark, proving to the girl's friends that the war between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter had begun. It had been a quiet summer.

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